


Skulls

by lorrcan



Series: All This Bad Blood [2]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drug Abuse, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorrcan/pseuds/lorrcan
Summary: He dug in his coat pocket, revealing a bright red envelope.  “I have a hundred in cash on me,” he said.  “She said it would get me, like, an eighth?”





	Skulls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [C0LUMBINE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/C0LUMBINE/gifts).



> past tense, since this is in the past

It was an apartment.  Tyler’s apartment; a three bedroom, two bathroom, open floor plan with hardwood floors and cream colored walls.    

It  wasn’t his, in particular, seeing as people came and went, seeing as there was a busted lock on the door that no one has fixed, seeing as this whole apartment building was forgotten and abandoned.  People that came didn’t care to steal whatever was in there, only needing a place to shoot up or sleep off an overdose. The two couches in the living room had stains of piss, shit, and cum, rips in the cushion, tape over large holes.  Tyler tried to hide them with an array of blankets, but most of them were crumpled up on the floor, forgotten after use. He drowned out the smell of vomit with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. 

He came back, alone, eyes dried out and lips cracked, shutting the door behind him.  For a moment, he holds his breath, a tight hand surrounding his diaphragm. To nothing, he moved further into the apartment.  That morning he left while a couple of girls were snorting lines of something purple off of each other’s tits and stomachs, but they appeared to be gone, including their clothes and drugs.   _ Good _ , he thought.  He knew if they wouldn’t be gone they would have included him into some orgy and that night was not a night for three or more girls to be drooling over him in their drugged fevers and hazes and highs.  

Dropped of his keys and plastic bag of chinese take out on the dining room table; he sighed, picked out his phone from his back pocket.   _ 11:26 _ .  Along with a few voicemails from his mother and texts from random numbers asking for an address or a plug, the cracked phone screen glowed in the almost pitch black house.  A nearby lamppost outside shed just enough light through the ripped blinds and saran wrapped, bullet riddled glass pane. Tyler sniffed. 

Twelve minutes after Tyler came home, there was a knock on his door.  He picked his head up out of his chinese food, chopsticks lazily held in his thin fingers.  No one ever knocked, called, announce. So, this must be important. Or some propaganda run for another politician that will shove people like him farther back on the food chain, even after promises of helping get junkies rehab and cleaning up the neighborhood.  Tyler was still mad that the last person elected sent in heavy policing through his door, demanding he give up his product before they beat the shit out of him. Hence, the broken lock. 

Another handful of minutes passed and the knock sounded off again, louder, heavier.  

“Shut up and come in!” Tyler yelled at it.  “Fuckin’ bastards,” he mumbled. 

The door slowly creaked inwards, the hinges beginning to crack and rust more and more.  A head of brown curly hair poked in, glossy brown eyes widening. “I’m uh… Jenna told me about this place.” 

“I don’t know a Jenna,” said Tyler, shovelling another bite of rice and chicken in his mouth.  

“Blonde, blue eyes, really sweet.” 

The brunette shifted on his feet.  Tyler stared. 

He dug in his coat pocket, revealing a bright red envelope.  “I have a hundred in cash on me,” he said. “She said it would get me, like, an eighth?” 

Tyler huffed, chuckled under his breath.  “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the lawn chair on the other side of the dining table.  “Finish that food, too.” 

“Why?” the boy asked, but sits as told.  

“Because I said so.” 

The other one sighed quietly, but since the entire place was complete silence, it echoed in Tyler’s ears.  Tyler took the red envelope from the boy, fingered through the contents of random sized bills and even some quarters and dimes.  He pulled about sixty dollars from the package and handed it back the rest, saying, “I don’t need that much.” 

“But Jenna--” 

“First thing you need to know about Jenna is that she’s a liar.”

The boy blinked, and then a smirk snuck up on his face.  “So you do know a Jenna.” 

That tease poked at Tyler, in a warm way, and he rolled his eyes.  “Eat.” 

He scoffed, tossed the envelope on Tyler’s placemat.  “For the takeout.” 

Tyler lit a cigarette while he moved around in the small kitchenette, opening up the unusable pizza oven and snatching out his few cloth bags.  On top of the counter, a metal bowl sat on a gray weighing scale, fingerprints all over the screen. 

“Name?” Tyler asked.  

“Josh,” he said back.  

“Tyler.” 

Josh nodded his head.  “Nice.” He swallowed. “How do you and Jenna know each other?” 

“We used to date,” responded Tyler, dropping delicate crystals into the silver bowl.  

“And?  What happened?”  

He shrugged his shoulders.  “Turns out I’m gay.” 

“Ah.  Me too.”  

“Yeah, I got that from the fucking scarf around your neck.” 

“Hey!” Josh quipped.  “It’s cold out! And in here, christ, do you not have the heat on?”  

Tyler squinted at him, softly, trying to see through his skull.  “Do you see any sort of light on? There’s no power in the building.”  

“Really?  I saw some windows with lights and TVs on.”  

Tyler bagged up most of Josh’s order, along with the needles and arm band he would need if he ever shot up outside of Tyler’s apartment.  “I’ve got a shitty generator in the backroom, but it hasn’t worked since summer.” 

“Aw, dude, I can take a look at it.  If you want,” he panted, hands shaking, face slighted pale.  “I mean, I worked as an intern at an electrician company.” 

“Y-yeah, sure, Josh.  There’s a toolbox in the back by it.”  

Needless to say, Josh fixed the generator in less then five minutes and in ten minutes, the apartment was warm for the first time that winter.  Another fifteen, and Josh was high, laying back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. Tyler had many lamps he turned on, even some christmas string lights hanging above the couches that he plugged in.  His set up was homely, inviting, instead of the cold, dark apartment that he came to every day. 

“Thanks,” Tyler muttered to Josh.  

He smiled, eyes half lidded, his lips in a dopey smile.  “No problem.” 

Tyler brought the kid a water bottle and a blanket, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.  Josh sat up and wrapped a blanket around himself, pulling up the hood to his sweatshirt. He sat, smacked his lips together, and Tyler just watched him for a few moments.  He was able to take in everything about him: his nose, that stuck out of his face in a perfect angle, sharpening everything about his face, the way his jaw would grind together at some points.  Tyler was fascinated, to say the least. Josh actually  _ wanted _ Tyler’s company, not just his couch, not just his roof.  

Josh, at one point, leaned into the corner of the sofa, and his head lolled over to face Tyler, mouth hung open just a bit.  “Would I be able to blow you?” 

Tyler snorted, rubbed a hand over his stubble.  “No, you’re high.” 

“Well,” he breathed, blinked, “do you wanna blow me?”  

He hummed in his throat.  “Maybe.” 

“Maybe?”  

“Yeah.”  

The two of them met gazes, Josh’s eyes flicking all around Tyler’s face.  Tyler sat back, bit his lip, groped himself through his jeans for a moment or two.  

Josh rolled his eyes, licked his lips.  “I’ve got condoms.” 

“Are you clean?”  

He nodded, fast, almost too fast, and shifted under the blanket.  

“Good.”  Tyler stood, only to then kneel in in front of Josh, in front of the man’s spreading legs.  The blanket fell open, too, and Josh’s fingers fumbled for his belt. “I got it,” Tyler said softly.  He ran a hand up Josh’s thigh, slowly, slick over the coarse material of his black jeans, and listened to the man let out a shuddering breath.  Josh’s thigh twitched, quivered. 

Tyler swiftly shucked Josh’s unzipped jeans down to his knees and pressed a few fingers against his hard cock.  Josh sniffed sharply, fingers tightening on the blankets. Tyler glanced up, for a moment, and grinned when Josh threw his head back, when Tyler gripped onto him tighter.  His tongue poked out to wet his lips, spit covering, and pulled back on the elastic to his underwear. The hum of the generator had a hold on the two of them, so powerful that Tyler began to believe that his body was vibrating.  

Tyler, then, grabbed Josh’s face, fingers on one side of his face, thumb on the other, and dug in.  “You watch,” he said, and forced three fingers into Josh’s mouth. 

Josh gagged, but obeyed, and made sure that Tyler’s fingers were sufficiently drenched in his saliva.  A tear escaped the corner of his eye. 

Tyler dropped his hand from Josh’s mouth, all the way to Josh’s dick.  He wrapped those wet fingers around Josh and pulled, pulled, pulled up towards the head of his cock.  Thumb rubbing over the underside of him, Tyler ran his tongue over the tip, over the slit, and relished in the guttural moan Josh let out.  

“Fuck, qu-quit teasing,” Josh wheezed.  

Tyler shushed him and got to work bobbing his head further down Josh’s cock, fisting whatever length he hadn’t gotten to.  Josh was heavy and thick against his tongue, but it was mouth watering and exciting inside Tyler’s thin bones. He found a swell of great pride being able to make a simple man be reduced to nothing but whines, shivers, and moans.  He worked hard, throat opening up to accommodate Josh, moving faster and faster. Josh’s sounds and pleas were beginning to overpower the noise of the generator. 

And with a simple pop of his mouth, Josh moaned and jerked his hips up, his cock barely brushing up against Tyler’s face.  Tyler nuzzled it.

“Stop it,” Josh breathed.  

“Stop what?” Tyler questioned, eyes blinking up at the other, mouth kissing his dick.

Josh laced his fingers in Tyler’s hair, tugged him closer to his mouth.  “Please,” he begged. 

“Finish yourself,” he said, flat, and spit right into the palm of Josh’s right hand.  “Do it. I know you want to cum for me.” 

The man shivered, and Tyler’s heart palpitated, a heat breaking out across his cheeks.  

Josh took hold of himself and with Tyler’s progress, his hand easily glided over his cock.  Within minutes, Josh was breathing heavily, cursing under his breath, all while he kept complete eye contact with Tyler.  Tyler knew, and so did Josh, that right then and there, Josh wasn’t going to be some other junkie that came out of the woodwork.  

Josh’s orgasm was something that Tyler never will forget.  The man gasped loudly and threw his head back, chin pointed up.  His hand was rapidly moving up and down, all the way through it, as ropes of cum flew back on his sweaty stomach and stained shirt and blanket alike.  His red cock laid softly on his skin, pulsating and twitching, as Josh regained a grasp on reality. Tyler, crouched in front of Josh, unable to move, leaned forward and ran his tongue over his cum.  Warm, sticky, and Tyler could feel himself jerk in his own pants. 

“Fuck, Tyler,” Josh choked out.  “Thank you.” 

Tyler nodded.  “No problem.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> inspired by vero's recent fic, aka, i hope i did this justice


End file.
